First
by QuiteQuiet
Summary: To show her appreciation for lots of support, Weiss tries to reciprocate Ruby's love and care. It's a first. [Temple AU] [Trigger warning: implied abuse]


_**Author's Note: Welcome back to the**_ **Temple** _ **AU.**_

 _ **This was originally going to be Weiss's section of a one-shot that contains POVs from each member of RWBY. However, it didn't fit with that story's tone or theme. So I'm writing her a new section and separating the first into its own fic here. The same thing happened with Ruby's POV, which is now**_ **Machinery.**

 _ **Given its overarching themes I wouldn't normally consider this AU funny. But I think a little part of this story is, sort of.**_

 _ **UPDATE 6/12: Why do I spend so much time on things that are tremendously out of character. Why.**_

* * *

Light touches were something Weiss was unused to, a considerate gesture after so many years of disregard. Gentleness startled her, made her jump sometimes. Mostly she'd freeze in place, waiting for the hand to clamp down and roam, grab, squeeze. Being used to routine ostracized her from normal social interaction. She took the notion of personal boundary very seriously. Handshakes were exchanged only in the most official of circumstances. Hugs could not go beyond three seconds. Anyone who touched long enough risked seeing the composed and robotic young woman whirlwind into a panic. The exception was Ruby. Ruby could stay near Weiss all day and that would be fine. She could lie by Weiss's side all night and slowly inch closer and snuggle and do a little more, if they wanted.

Weiss rarely felt as though she weren't being touched. Everywhere she went the phantom hands stayed, covering her mouth if she tried to scream. Sometimes they appeared like shadows, long tendrils clenching as they swallowed their way up her skin. She knew the hands weren't really there, but that didn't stop their power. They stained her, left deep purple prints long after the actual fingers had disappeared. On the arms, most often. Or the face. Now there are hands on her thighs. They're mirrored across her knees, pushing them apart. Some days Weiss refused to let anyone close to her. The rest, she could find herself calmed, even welcomed, by a long moment of contact with Ruby.

Weiss craved Ruby's touch. In private she'd play back the caresses, the loving contact that applied just the right pressure. It was a dream, one too real not to become afraid of. She worried Ruby would find her ungrateful. With other people the idea might have made her indignant, but this was different. She wanted to show she cared too.

She considered her life with Ruby sometimes, concluded she was pathetic. She'd been needy. She'd been a kid. Many nights she cried, costing sleep from them both. Surrounding herself with support didn't fix it. Despite multiple peoples' words of assurance, there was always a voice in Weiss's head that reminded her she was weak and worthless. That she deserved bad things, and brought them upon herself. She never thought she could be valued, and was so proven wrong. Weiss was thinking about this as she and Ruby sat on the couch of their on-campus apartment one evening, the TV screen flickering seven feet away. The volume had been turned low. Ruby was watching the random movie they'd found channel surfing. Weiss was watching Ruby. She took note of the rise and fall in Ruby's chest as she breathed, the way her fingers drummed idly at her thighs. Though Weiss hated herself for giving in, she was flooded with emotion. When Ruby noticed Weiss staring she knew it was going to be a frisky night.

After the movie was over, they had gone to the bedroom. Ruby had taken off Weiss's pajamas, article by article, leaving her pale and vulnerable. Weiss was facing the wall on her hands and knees, waiting. Ruby was about to settle behind her when she said, "Wait." She looked over her shoulder. Her tone was quiet and unsure. "I want to do it to you."

Ruby blinked, and lay down on the bed. In the next second it dawned on Weiss that they had never reversed their roles. She inched forward, suddenly feeling weights on her hands. She shakily turned Ruby onto her back. Ruby waited, her chest rising with quiet breaths, her eyes watchful and patient.

Weiss's finger twitched. She felt up a side of Ruby's arm and down the other. It resembled a driver steering drunk. Weiss stumbled over another step, knees sinking into the mattress. She didn't know what she was doing. She drew a meandering circle into Ruby's cheek, then traced Ruby's head and kissed her neck. Ruby reacted to this, as most women do. She took hold of Weiss and breathed in, body arching.

Weiss continued grubbing around Ruby, trembling. Her face hardened to stone, mouth wide and scrunched with worry. She couldn't do it. She wasn't touching Ruby right. She was a mess.

Ruby remained stationary as Weiss haphazardly handled her on the mattress. The scar over Weiss's eye seemed to burn as she worried herself. Her fingers reached toward Ruby's legs and her partner's gaze followed. At the last moment Weiss turned her fingers up, avoiding contact with Ruby's skin. Her lips were twitching now. Ruby contemplated Weiss spread out above her, first-time top and paralyzed by anxiety. She needed help. Ruby lifted halfway off the bed, turning around.

Weiss clambered on top of Ruby and thrust a couple times before collapsing. She rolled over, agonizingly, and stared at the ceiling. Ruby, in shock, had no response. They lay in silence.

"I'm a failure," Weiss said in the darkness.

Ruby told her it was a nice first top.

They'd slid back into their pajamas and gone to sleep. Ruby lay on her back, hands folded below her head. Weiss was on her side as she had done most of her life. She looked at the wall, her fingers wringing each other under her chin. A long time ago she'd been taught to start lying flat, sometimes with her hands over her chest if it were requested of her; she'd wait, eyes closed, trying quietly and desperately to take herself somewhere else before the touches commenced. If her mind went far enough, she could perform commands without too much pain. Weiss's heart often churned when she thought about it.

In the bed that night, the hands pressed heavily into her. She shot up, unnerved by the feel of her veins thrumming in the tiny room.


End file.
